


Accidental Monsters

by iwtv



Category: Interview With the Vampire (1994), Vampire Chronicles - All Media Types, Vampire Chronicles - Anne Rice
Genre: 1994 film sequel, Canon Divergent, Gen, Lestat POV, Louis POV, M/M, vampire sex (including blood exchange)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 06:07:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20484116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwtv/pseuds/iwtv
Summary: “Why must you goad me into an argument?” Lestat ranted on, wringing his hands at him. He wore his hair loose tonight. It fluttered wildly in the ocean breeze around them. His expensive Armani leather jacket and tight jeans looked beautifully out of place against the backdrop of ocean.I've been re-reading all the Vampire Chronicles and did I mention I'm still hopelessly in love with Lestat? Anyways this takes place right after the 94 film ends.(Sal it's all your fault <3).





	Accidental Monsters

He stood on the pinnacle of the great Golden Gate, cold wind blowing through his loose hair.

He didn’t often fly up so high; it had a frightening effect, to feel so far away from all things. Every once in a while he’d find himself perched on a tall building just for the view. There was a certain splendor to the night of a big city, with its myriad forms of lights and structures he’d never dreamed of in his mortal lifetime.

But tonight the only view that concerned him was the one unfolding far below him. There was a red corvette crashed along the bridge. Bright flashes of red and blue surrounded it as uniformed police investigated the crash.

He dropped down silently to the first of four monstrous beams that held together one of the bridge’s towers for a closer look. He smelled the blood before he saw it. Not much. A few splatters on the car’s upholstery. Sloppy. Signs of a struggle. Ah, how he had wanted to taste that blood a mere hour ago, when he’s shoved the boy’s body against the ceiling and had smelled the fear and adrenaline pumping through his system.

Daniel was nowhere to be found, either by the police below him or even to his own preternatural senses. But he didn’t believe that Daniel was far, just as he knew that Lestat wasn’t far.

He could not hear his maker’s thoughts, this was true. Yet something innate told him Lestat was close. And though he did not want to really consider it he knew Lestat was the cause of the crash.

Off he flew, back across the bridge and into San Francisco. He opened himself to the sounds of mortals. It was an unbearable cacophony at first but gradually he focused his power, listening for very specific voices.

His ears took him to an old warehouse in a shabbier part of town. He landed a block away in an alleyway and walked. The air was chill in the coming autumn, blowing open his unbuttoned and faded blazer. There was a broken window on the second floor of the warehouse. From there he heard two voices in strained conversation.

He made the leap to the window, careful to avoid the broken shards sticking out from the frame. He heard the whisper of ‘quiet’ as he slowly walked through an immense dusty room full of old equipment. As he rounded a corner Lestat stood there looking at him. The interviewer Daniel was next to him, startling at the unexpected company. But Lestat’s expression of surprise was far more subtle. Louis watched the blond brows knit together and then relax, the beautiful violet-blue eyes darting all over his face. Lestat’s lips parted and he let out a huff of air.

Louis couldn’t take his eyes off him, not even when Daniel began babbling excitedly.

“You came back,” said Daniel with a little laugh as he approached Louis.

Louis saw straight away that the Dark Trick had been worked on him. He was the same but changed. White flawless face, bright eyes that seemed to soak up every color of light in their dark irises. His black hair looked blacker. Louis saw his discarded glasses on a pile of crates.

“This is fucking amazing,” Daniel said, looking all around the room and smiling like a child on Christmas morning. “It’s just as you described it, Louis. I can see details…oh god, things I never saw before!”

He rushed over to a window and looked out.

“Yes, it is quite an experience,” Louis said calmly.

He was still staring at Lestat. Neither one of them had moved.

“I wasn’t certain I’d see you so soon,” Lestat said cautiously.

“Really? You mean you didn’t do that…” Louis nodded over to Daniel, “…to goad me back to you?”

Lestat blinked once.

“Perhaps I did. But I still wasn’t certain. Mostly I did it because I was out and about and lonely, thinking of you. I could no longer sit in that house like a wraith after you came by that night. So I decided to venture out even though you had abandoned me again like a damned monster. I searched all our old haunts before I heard the thoughts of younger vampires. They wondered who was the older one that had taken up residence in San Francisco, who looked like a vagabond with piercing green eyes. I knew it had to be you.”

Louis narrowed his eyes.

“You overheard my interview. You were spying on me.”

Glint of the old sly smile.

“Yes, I confess. But can you really blame me?”

Louis looked back to Daniel. He was studying his reflection in a window. He’d smeared off the dust and grime with his fingers and was looking down at them in wonder.

“I was a newborn vampire, weeping at the beauty of the night,” he muttered.

Louis recognized his own words, spoken to Daniel and to the small recording device. He turned back to Lestat.

“No. I don’t suppose I can blame you. And what of Daniel now? You were sloppy. His car’s been found by the police. They’ll be searching for him.”

Lestat finally moved. He was as a statue before and the motion jarred Louis. He was always jarred by it. The older, more powerful ones among them were less human in that way.

Lestat called to Daniel.

“Daniel, Louis is afraid I’ve made another blunder with you. But you knew everything a mortal could possibly know before I gave you the Dark Gift.”

Daniel looked to Louis and nodded.

“You know it’s true. I know you were upset with me when I asked you to give me the gift. I think I can understand why…”

Louis looked away.

“You cannot fathom it.”

“Hear me out, please,” said Daniel. He walked up and took Louis’ hand gently into his own, studying even that in his new state of being.

“I’ve accepted the risk,” he said slowly, dark eyes swirling with what appeared to be life. “And if there’s suffering involved, then I’ve accepted that as well. I believe it’s worth it. I have a lust for life in a way I’ve never possessed before. I know it wasn’t that way when Lestat turned you. Yet you’re still here. You go on. You’re still living for something.”

Louis let a small smile slip on his face. He looked at Lestat without meaning to.

“Dying to live,” he said softly. “What poetry.”

There was no anger in it. Lestat merely echoed his smile. It was a sad smile that made Louis’ chest tighten. He felt the pull between them like a thrumming string after it’s been plucked. He resisted it.

Daniel suddenly clutched his stomach, bending over.

“You’re hungry,” said Lestat. He focused on Daniel fully for the first time.

“Yes, give me more of your blood,” the boy said eagerly.

“No. My blood can’t sustain you. You need to feed from mortals. We should go, while there’s enough time before dawn. Then we can go to the hotel room I’ve rented for the day.”

Daniel nodded. “Yes! Teach me how to feed properly. I want to know everything.”

Lestat actually laughed. How Louis had missed that sound. How many years had it been since he’d heard that sound? More harmonic than the vicious laughter from their long-ago fights. More musical and lively than the laughter that had come from the wraith-like Lestat he’d found a few years ago, decaying right along with their old flat. To think that his visit had actually been the reason for his maker re-emerging into society…ah, the tightness in his chest increased.

“Wait for me just outside,” Lestat was saying to Daniel. He gestured at the broken window. “I need a moment with Louis. Just outside, mind you. Do not go anywhere. Stay absolutely away from the police until we can sort out your car accident. Consider it your first test as one of us. Understand?”

Daniel nodded. Then he rushed over and hugged Louis, engulfing him in his arms and planting a kiss on his cheek. Louis stiffened under the touch, mildly shocked. Daniel pulled back, all but beaming at him. Not a trace of anger or mistrust in his eyes at all, though not long ago Louis had held him in a death grip, eyes flashing and teeth bared. Louis was quietly amazed at this one.

Daniel left, jumping easily down the window and no doubt marveling at that. The room without him was quieter, yet Louis heard the unspoken roaring between the two of them that remained.

“Oh Louis.”

Lestat said it on a heavy sigh. He sounded weary.

“Louis,” he repeated, finally closing the distance between them.

Lestat reached out and touched his face, cupping his cheek in his palm. It was cold, devoid of the flush from fresh blood. Louis saw now how much Daniel had taken from him. Yet it was Lestat’s hand, smooth marble and strong once again.

Louis felt his eyes slip closed at the familiar touch. It sent a chill through his whole body. But then a current of anger went through him. He reached up and pulled the hand away.

“You’re still a fiend aren’t you?” he asked. “You followed Daniel and turned him into one of us to draw me out. That was your sole purpose.”

Lestat spun away from him.

“_Mon Dieu,_” he whispered. Then louder, “Is that so horrible? So what if I did? Tell me Louis, what did you expect those years ago after you left me? Did you hope I would simply wither away in that damned room? Or crawl into the earth to suffer for years untold? Or did you even care?”

Withering glance at him now. And with it a slew of jagged memories that flared up in Louis.

“Of course I cared,” he replied quickly. “But you could have just _come_ to me. But instead you chose as you always do, to come crashing mercilessly back into my life. All the old manipulations. You haven’t lost your touch.”

“I’ve never been good at this, with you,” said Lestat, flicking his wrist towards him. “But goddamnit Louis, you make it so _difficult_ sometimes.”

Well, that was true, wasn’t it? Louis turned from him and walked toward the window Daniel had used as a mirror. He felt tired suddenly.

“I don’t want to argue with you, not now.”

“Yes well you started it.”

Louis smiled wanly at his reflection. He re-focused his eyes to see Lestat’s reflection behind him. He had his fists on his hips, lock of wavy blond hair loose from its tie and framing his face. A wave of something much more desirous filled him.

“It’s getting late. You should go to Daniel. He’s getting impatient standing down there.”

“So your powers have grown since we were last together,” said Lestat, not without some measure of pleasure. “Please tell me we may see each other tomorrow night, then.”

Louis forced himself not to turn around.

“Yes, I’d like that.”

“Then meet me at the Marriott Marquis after sunset.”

“Very well.”

Lestat was looking at him and then he was gone. Louis heard the sound of displaced air in his wake. Louis turned around, cursing himself for having not said something more. He closed his eyes, remembering the feel of that hand on his cheek.

He lay down in his hideout for the day, sleeping fitfully until the deep slumber brought on by full sunlight overtook him.

After sunset the next night Lestat and Daniel met him just outside the hotel. Daniel was bubbly and full of excitement. He told Louis about the beautiful young thief he’d caught and drank from the night before, his first victim. He’d been sad afterward and still was, but the blood, oh the blood. It was better than wine and sex combined.

They let Daniel talk and lead them through the nighttime streets, still full of warm bodies around them. Louis looked over for the second time at the blond next to him.

“You still look tired,” he remarked. “You should feed.”

“I’m fine,” said Lestat. “Let’s go down to the waterfront, shall we?”

So they walked along the shoreline to the great Pacific Ocean. At first they stayed around the mortals, following their trails and boardwalks and marveling at the spectacle of the sea. Then as the night deepened they roamed away from those areas and out on more remote shorelines. Daniel wanted to wonder alone. He was hungry again. He’d already fed earlier on a sex worker. He’d practiced the Little Drink on her, as Lestat taught him. Be discreet. Make it look like an embrace. Leave them alive and still able to walk. Louis remembered the old lessons well. But Daniel was a fledgling and would need two or three victims a night.

So Daniel left them on the shore, heading back to the city.

“He’s simply marvelous, don’t you think?” Lestat asked as soon as Daniel was gone.

Louis smiled. “Yes. I like him. He’ll be strong. You must teach him patience, though. Else he’ll lose that lust for life too soon.”

Lestat nodded. “Ah, yes. The patience to make it through eternity. I often wonder how I’m doing on that front, what Gabrielle and Marius and the others think. To them, you and I must still seem like fledglings ourselves.”

“And yet we’ve outlasted many younger ones,” said Louis.

“Have you ever done it, made one of us?” Lestat asked suddenly.

They came to a stop on the narrow beach. The tide was coming in now, the sand wet under their boots. Small crabs scuttled back and forth before them, in and out of their holes. All was quiet except for the constant lullaby of the waves rolling up to meet the land. Louis found he quite loved it and wondered why he hadn’t appreciated beaches in the past.

An odd place for a vampire, it seemed.

Still Lestat’s question threw him off balance.

“I don’t know,” he said at last. “There was once or twice I seriously considered doing it, making one of us. Once was in the early part of this century. She was a ballerina in Denmark. Beautiful creature. I thought it might be nice to have her grace and her talents forever. But she ended up marrying a man whom she loved and was good to her. Then there was a man. Well, a young man.”

Louis stopped short. The memory of the young man was even more vivid than his ballerina had been.

“He was…well, he looked like you.”

Their eyes met. Even in the near total darkness Louis could see Lestat’s eyes dimly reflecting some light from far away. His lips parted, face soft. But then the moment passed and Lestat looked at the sand, continuing their walk.

“I see. And why didn’t you take him?”

His voice had a hard edge to it.

_Because he looked like you. And because I fell in love with him,_ Louis thought.

“Does it matter?” he answered coldly instead. “Just more melancholy nonsense from me.”

The old phrase was barbed, of course. Flash of anger on the blonde’s face.

“For God’s sake,” Lestat moaned. “Why must you do this?”

Louis stopped and leaned against the beam to a giant boardwalk above them. He felt tired again.

“Why must you goad me into an argument?” Lestat ranted on, wringing his hands at him. He wore his hair loose tonight. It fluttered wildly in the ocean breeze around them. His expensive Armani leather jacket and tight jeans looked beautifully out of place against the backdrop of ocean.

“It’s all past, Lestat, isn’t that what you said to me that night as I cowered in that chair? You were so full of love then, of forgiveness. I swear I still don’t understand you, you damn fool.”

Lestat hesitated. Louis saw a pained expression flit across his features, hand coming up to his stomach. He knew Lestat did not need to feed very often anymore—unless he’d been drained and hadn’t made up for it.

“Shh. Stop,” said Louis.

It was little more than a whisper. Without thinking he reached out and grabbed Lestat’s animate form, fingers digging into the leather sleeve. He pulled Lestat close to him and kissed the pulse over his neck tenderly. Lestat stilled, small gasp escaping his lips.

Louis yanked down on the collar of his own shirt, exposing his neck. With his thumbnail he cut himself over the thick vein there. Lestat caught the scent of his blood, eyes closing for a moment.

“Stop,” said Lestat softly, weakly.

Louis felt the cut heal itself but the blood on his thumb remained. He lifted it to Lestat’s lips.

“Drink,” he said.

Lestat grabbed his wrist to stop him. If he’d wanted, Louis knew Lestat could have flung him right off the wooden beam and out into the sea. Instead he parted his mouth and let Louis slide his thumb inside. He felt Lestat’s tounge push up against him, licking off the blood. Lestat groaned.

Louis cut his neck again, pulling Lestat even closer.

“Drink.”

Their eyes locked for a precious second. Then Lestat lowered his head and clamped over the cut. Louis gasped as a row of sharp teeth penetrated him, followed by the pull of Lestat’s sucking. Hungry lips clamped over his flesh and the pull of blood from his body grew. He grasped the back of Lestat’s head, fingers digging into that thick yellow hair. Lestat’s arm slipped behind his back as he crushed their bodies together. The swoon fell over him like a veil. Lestat’s crotch pressed up hard against his and he gasped again at his own hardness.

He was as a feather, floating. Blood, blood, blood. Lestat grinded against him as he fed in great droughts, tongue lapping at the wound before sucking again. Louis felt the edge coming faster and faster. He couldn’t distinguish his own moans from Lestat’s anymore. The blond broke away from his throat with a final, long moan, surging against Louis’ body one more time. Louis felt the fluid leave his cock. His knees almost buckled. He realized Lestat was holding him up. They remained like that for several minutes, with Lestat’s face buried into the crook of his neck, breathing heavily.

Lestat pushed off first. He took a stumbling step back. Louis saw him through the fading vestiges of his swoon—lips blood-red, chest heaving from under the tight shirt, eyes heavy and lidded. Then Lestat surged towards him again. This time their lips connected, crashing mercilessly together. Louis tasted his own blood there, still warm. Lestat’s tongue slid against his own, deep into his mouth. Louis bit down on it. He felt Lestat jerk. Then he allowed Louis to take from him.

And oh, what a taste. Paradise. An infinite number of paradises. Images not his own flashed through his mind. Glimpses of where Lestat had been, of Daniel and drinking Daniel’s blood. There were older images as well. He and Lestat and Claudia. Armand. Louis stopped himself, gently pushing Lestat back but not letting go of him.

Lestat grinned broadly, still out of breath.

“And you call _me_ the fiend.”

*

They re-joined Daniel a short time later. He’d found a drug den and had fed off one of its occupants. He’d been in the middle of it when he’d been attacked from behind. He’d suffered a cut to his back with a knife before he’d turned on his attacker and killed him too.

“You must be careful in places like that,” Lestat had told him. “You must make certain no one else is around you before drinking.”

Yes, Daniel had agreed. He’d not been careful enough. Too caught up in the scent of his victim and in the stalking. But the knife wound had healed perfectly. Lesson learned. Louis smiled a little fondly at the conversation.

“So what about you two?” Daniel asked now.

“Ah, I’m afraid we have yet to feed,” said Lestat. He threw a knowing look to Louis.

“Well then, what’s stopping you?” offered Daniel, arms spread wide to take in the city before them. His exuberance was contagious. Louis and Lestat smiled at each other.

The three of them went off to hunt together, finding their meals on the outskirts of the city. Watching Lestat take the life of a pimp brought back the old surge of adrenaline in Louis. It was always so sensual when Lestat fed. He’d trick them if he could, convince them to come close enough for an embrace. Like two lovers, it always was. Then he’d make the fatal bite and feed.

Louis had rarely indulged in his victims in that way. The feeding itself was sensual enough for him. He chose instead to take the Little Drink from several of the prostitutes nearby until he felt full.

They finished the evening off with a movie in the theatre, Daniel’s choice. At first they had both balked at the idea of watching a film called _Wolf_, but Daniel had insisted on it. Louis was pleasantly surprised by the film. Of course the irony of the film wasn’t lost on either of them and Daniel reveled in it; the story of a man bitten by a wolf who then turns into a werewolf and ends up defending the woman he’s fallen in love with from a rival wolf. Their true natures came out at night under a full moon. It was nothing new but the experience of watching it was enjoyable to Louis. At one point he felt the slide of Lestat’s fingers over his own as they sat in the darkened cinema.

Afterwards daytime arrangements were made. Lestat and Daniel both insisted that Louis spend at least one day in the hotel with them, that way they would be together for the following night.

“Come now Louis, don’t sulk,” said Lestat as they rode the escalator up. “I know you’re particular about these little hideouts of yours, but I need you to enjoy my luxuries every once in a while.”

And luxurious the suit was. Perhaps not the fanciest Louis had been in but it was certainly high on the list. Everything was aesthetically pleasing, down to the way the bath towels had been folded into origami-like swans. The little fridge that was built in to the dresser was stocked full of sweets and liquor. Daniel decided he wanted some Grey Goose Vodka. They both warned him he would no longer enjoy the taste but it didn’t stop him.

Daniel took a swig from the little bottle and puckered up, coughing.

“Ah, disgusting!” he declared.

When dawn crept near, Daniel was the first to start feeling its effects. He bid them a good day and went through the connecting door into his own room. Louis watched, a little bemused, as Lestat followed him and fussed over securing the blinds. He’d managed to procure a large trunk for Daniel to sleep in beside the bed and on its windowless side. Then he returned to Louis in the other room.

“I remember Claudia used to grow sleepy at the exact same time every night,” said Louis fondly and a bit sadly. He was gazing out the massive and well-polished windows. The sky was just beginning to grow light.

“Hmm yes, and I remember opening that coffin and seeing the two of you curled up together, even after we’d gotten her a coffin of her own.”

Louis smiled at the memory. It still hurt to think of her, but it was less now as the years grew. They closed the thick curtains on the windows. The door was locked and Lestat had given explicit orders that the room not be disturbed for any reason during the daytime hours, an old and necessary habit.

Louis sat down on the bed and peeled off his jacket and boots. There was only one truck in the room, meant for Lestat but he wanted Louis to use it.

“I can take more sun than you, darling,” Lestat reminded him. “But there’s nothing to worry about anyway. I’ll be beside you, on the floor.”

Louis blinked. “I have never known you to sleep on the floor unless under some form of duress.”

That got the blond to laugh out loud.

“You make me feel like such the snob. But I suppose I am,” he added with a shrug. He gestured at the trunk.

“It would be snug, but it _is_ big enough for two.”

“And where is this newfound generosity coming from?” Louis asked as Lestat took off his own boots and stripped off his jacket.

“Really, Louis. Must you always be so suspicious? I’ve missed you. There. I said it.”

Louis remained quiet, gazing at him. Lestat unbuckled his belt last, leaving him in his well-fitted jeans and a simple cotton shirt that outlined the lean muscles of his chest. Louis felt his desire rise again. He could still taste his maker’s blood in his mouth. Like an alcoholic’s first taste after a long abstinence, he was left craving more. That was simple enough of an admission. Yet the desire he felt now exceeded the Little Drink from earlier.

“Louis, you’re making me blush, as they say now.”

Too long he’d been gazing. But he didn’t look away. Lestat approached him and ran long fingers through his feathery hair, pushing it away from his face. If he himself had been in any way modest, Lestat was quite blatant in the way he was now looking at him.

“I want to see you,” the blond said. “I want to see how beautiful you still are under these rags of yours.”

Louis never wore rags, of course, but it was Lestat’s favorite word for his plain and simple clothing and always had been. It earned the devilish imp before him another smile.

Louis rose from the bed and removed his shirt. Lestat’s eyes swept over him. Louis saw them dilate, a rather fascinating observation most humans would have missed in one another’s eyes. Hands strong enough to crush rock reached out and glazed over his hard flesh gently. Lestat dug his fingers into the waist of Louis’ pants and tugged him forward. Louis obliged. Their noses almost touched. Lestat’s lips brushed ever so softly over his own. Louis felt his desire crest.

“My blood is always yours,” Louis whispered.

“I know,” said Lestat, violet-blue eyes darting over his lips. “But I want more than that.”

Lestat’s hand cupped the crotch of Louis’s pants and rubbed his cock through the fabric. Louis inhaled sharply. He remembered quite well the last time Lestat had pulled this little move and what followed. It took his breath away even to consider it.

Lestat had his pants unzipped and was yanking them down, kissing the flat of Louis’ stomach as he did so. Cold, wet lips. Lestat’s lips, wanting him. He was already fully hard.

Lestat stripped off his own jeans and pressed his body hard into Louis’. Silken marble on silken marble. Their mouths clashed together hungrily. Louis could hear Lestat’s heartbeat increase. But he needed to be sure.

He grabbed Lestat’s shoulders and forced him back. Lestat whined, body pushing against the restraint and towards Louis.

“I want to hear you say it.”

“Say what?”

“Say it.”

Lestat huffed impatiently. But Louis didn’t relent, keeping the small space between them that was surely as torturous to Lestat as it was to him. He waited until Lestat’s small fit of self indignation—which was really just a façade anyway—had passed. Lestat raised a thumb to Louis’ lips and traced it delicately. Blood tears formed in his eyes.

“I want you inside me,” he said at last.

The number of times Louis had felt elation as an immortal he could count on one hand. Most of those times were because of Lestat. He added this moment to the list.

In short time Louis had him pressed against the wall. He gently pushed himself inside Lestat, one arm wrapped tightly around Lestat’s chest from behind while the other gripped his hipbone.

Lestat let out a noise as Louis’ cock began to fill him. His hand went against the wall, flat-palmed.

“Louis,” he whispered.

Louis gently opened him all the way up until he could go no further. They were both already panting. Lestat’s hand snaked up and clutched the other’s hair in a fist. Louis sucked hard over the bluish-green vein on Lestat’s neck, teeth teasing the flesh.

“Louis, for the love of God—”

Oh, how he adored hearing Lestat come apart like this, his voice more breathless and raw each time he spoke.

Louis moved, thrusting gently. He stifled a moan at the feel of Lestat’s hot hole still tight around him. As he moved he studied the tiny beads of blood-sweat that begun to break out on Lestat’s shoulder and neck, glistening sharply against the pale white skin. He licked them up. Little pricks of paradise again.

“An immoveable feast,” he whispered into Lestat’s ear.

The smallest of whimpers escaped the blond’s throat. He bucked himself against Louis.

“Quit trying to be a damn romantic right now,” Lestat huffed out, but just barely.

Louis thrusted harder into him and Lestat moaned louder.

“So says the biggest romantic of them all,” Louis quipped back.

Whatever Lestat’s retort was—there was some unintelligible but very agitated French involved—it was cut short when Louis’s tongue flicked the soft skin behind Lestat’s ear lobe and rolled his hips. Lestat bucked back against him hard, hand coming around to clamp itself over Louis’ ass.

Soon Louis lost all sense of the room around them. Lestat planted a foot on the frame of the bed, spreading himself wider. Louis fucked him hard. His vision was only of Lestat. Blood-sweat covered his lithe body. Louis let it fill his nostrils. It called out to him. Finally he pushed for Lestat to get on the bed.

Lestat was on his back, arms up around his head. His thick mane of golden hair framed his face. He grabbed Louis’s face and crushed their lips together again, legs locking around Louis’ body. Louis pressed his cock inside again. It slid in with ease and they both moaned.

“Louis please.”

Lestat was begging him now. Louis moved fast and hard, but his thirst was quickly eclipsing even this blissful feeling. Lestat’s teeth were bared, well-manicured fingernails raking across his back like wildfire. Lestat’s breathing came in shorter and shorter bursts. It made Louis’ cock ache unbearably. He rubbed the hard muscles of his stomach over Lestat’s rock-hard cock that lay flat against his stomach. A string of breathless French curse words lit out from Lestat’s mouth.

Finally he could resist no longer. With a growl he bent down and bit into Lestat’s throat as rough as any wolf tearing into its prey. An instant channel of blood gushed into his mouth.

At first there was only the instant satisfaction. He swallowed in long draughts, relishing the hot salt and taste that filled his very being. A string of images came next. Sharp and quick they were, like watching scenes from a film. He saw himself through his maker’s eyes, first in modern clothes, then as he drew more and more blood older images surfaced, in older times and older cities. Paris flashed through his mind in its astonishing beauty and ugliness. Their old haunts. Images of the castle Lestat had once called home in Auvergne were deep in the blood and full of a mixture of longing and sadness.

Vaguely he heard Lestat cry out. His body arched off the bed under Louis, nails clutching painfully to Louis’ back and in his hair. He felt Lestat’s cock spill out between them. Moments later Louis followed him over the edge. They lay side by side on the bed for long minutes after. Louis relished even the taste of this too, as he listened to their heartbeats gradually slow.

*

Daniel wanted to go to Paris.

Lestat sighed and leaned back on the bench. The dock had shut down for the tourists an hour ago. He’d hunted almost immediately after waking. The thirst was almost unbearable after his time with Louis.

“I’ll have to hunt every night for a week because of you,” he’d told his fledgling. He had sounded as glib as ever. But there was no fooling Louis. Lestat was more than happy when Louis had pressed close to him in the trunk, almost curled up. In fact Lestat had almost wept before falling asleep. At times he became so accustomed to his loneliness that it felt attached to his skin and bones. During the fleeting times he managed to shed it, the difference was as night and day. He loathed Louis realizing this, of course. So he wept silently and to himself as he inhaled the scent of Louis next to him.

He wanted to weep now.

The ocean breeze helped keep his eyes dry. The ocean was a black mass stretched out before him, but with the moonlight he could make out dim shades of color in it. He could see the shark’s fin in the distance suddenly cut the surface of the water. He smiled. One space on this earth that immortals could never conquer, he thought. The shark was the vampire of its territory, its sharp teeth as capable and as merciless as a vampire’s could be, drawn in by that same sweet smell of salt and iron as a vampire was.

Paris.

He pushed the thought away again, irritated without really knowing why. He wanted to enjoy this moment. Not just the ocean before him, although it was giving him pleasure. When he closed his eyes and heightened his senses he could feel them somewhere in the city. His Louis, and now his Daniel.

He opened his eyes. A small smile spread on his face. He turned his head over his shoulder.

“Well don’t hover back there like some night stalker. Come here.”

Daniel slipped out of the shadows and into the moonlight. His hands were casually in the pockets of his khaki pants, fitted under a dark blue polo shirt. His hair was well combed and in the modern style. He was smiling, face flushed from the kill.

“You’ve fed well?” Lestat asked as the young man sat next to him on the bench.

“I have.”

Lestat let his eyes roam over Daniel’s form.

“You look magnificent, you know. Even in that outfit. Better than Louis’ dress at any rate.”

Daniel laughed.

“You’re still the same preening aristocrat Louis described you as, aren’t you? This is a perfectly normal, middle class outfit.”

“I love you Daniel, but watch your tongue. And that little memoir of his was quite biased.”

Daniel smiled. Ah, such a joyous smile he wore, without a trace of sadness.

“So Paris,” Daniel started.

Lestat sighed again, uncrossing his legs. Daniel turned more somber.

“You don’t want to go do you?”

“It’s not exactly that. I love Paris. It remains my favorite city next to New Orleans. It always has.”

Daniel studied the wooden floor under them for a long moment.

“It haunts you, doesn’t it?” he said. “If everything Louis said in his novel is true, I suspect it’s a city of ghosts to you.”

Lestat smiled.

“Yes and no,” he answered patiently. “Every time I go there I feel the same melancholy, imagining those ghosts you speak of, that’s true. But I know those people and the Paris of that time are both dead. There’s too much splendor, too much magnificence that make up Paris for me to sulk for very long. I’m constantly amazed at how she has changed through the centuries.”

They fell silent again. Daniel rose and went to the railing that overlooked the cold Pacific. Lestat knew he was still fascinated with the sheer beauty of everything his new eyes allowed him to see.

The real reason Paris gave him pause was one ghost in particular.

It had been a long time since he had been part of a trio—since he’d been with two of his fledglings.

But Daniel was nothing like Claudia. He was a grown man. He’d already experienced the world as a mortal adolescent and adult. And he knew what they were. He’d witnessed Louis and his preternatural power firsthand. All this before Lestat had offered him immortality. And he’d accepted.

Only time would tell if Daniel would come to resent it, as many others had. But that paled in comparison to the fear Lestat had that Daniel would come to resent _him._

For one reason or another, his fledglings always did. But some of that blame was his own burden to bear. Ah, to be an accidental monster.

He rose off the bench and stood beside Daniel at the railing.

“I’ll come to Paris with both of you,” he said. “And we shall stay in the grandest hotels with the grandest mortals all around. There’s places I want to show you.”

Daniel’s face lit up.

“Oh fantastic! Yes! I can hardly wait. I want to see where the Theatre of the Vampires was. And I want to see Les Innocents, or some other old and magnificent graveyard. And I want to drink Parisian blood full of good wine so I won’t find it disgusting.”

“Oh lord, I’ve got my hands full with you, don’t I?”

Daniel smiled rather seductively at him.

“I suppose you do.”

Daniel stood close to him and leaned forward. His lips touched his own for a moment. Lestat grinned. He was quickly falling in love with Daniel.

They decided to walk the length of the dock back to the mainland, enjoying the night around them. Louis stood at the bottom of the stairs. Daniel informed him straightaway they were all going to Paris.

“Indeed,” said Louis, raising a brow at Lestat while Daniel babbled excitedly. Daniel needed to wrap up some loose ends, as he put it, that pertained to his mortal life, so they would need to stay a few more nights in the States. All perfectly fine, said Lestat. He would give Daniel all the money and assistance he needed. Daniel took off, moving with preternatural speed back to the city.

He and Louis walked the rest of the way. They chatted briefly before lapsing into a comfortable silence.

Even the silence made him feel indescribably happy, as long as Louis was here. He wondered how long their reunion would last this time. How long would Daniel want to remain by his side before he wanted to strike out on his own? It always happened too quickly. Best to stay in the moment for as long as it lasted.

“I know why you decided to make him,” Louis said at length, in his gentle voice.

Lestat tensed but stayed quiet.

“He is nothing like she was,” Louis continued. “He’s been given knowledge about our kind, the chance to choose in the way you didn’t give her.”

_Or you,_ Lestat thought.

“Louis, please.”

_She._ He didn’t want to speak her name either. Why, why in the hell did they need to discuss this now? Or at all? A dull ache came to his heart and his head.

“I don’t say this to upset you or to prove a point,” Louis continued. “I only mean I see what you’re trying to do and I’m proud of you.”

“Proud of me? For what?” Lestat gruffed. “Proud to see me suffer, to feel remorse? Well I don’t feel any damn remorse for what I did.”

His words were harsh and sharp when he’d had not meant them to be. Coward, he thought. He did feel remorse for Claudia. But that wasn’t the same as feeling sorry for creating her. Accidental monsters indeed.

“Proud of you for trying to make amends,” Louis finished in that same gentle voice. He stopped walking.

“I can’t stand to see you suffer,” he added. His green eyes were like two jewels of electricity in the night, boring into his soul. Ghastly, beautiful. He reached out and took Lestat’s hand in his own. He ran his fingertips over Lestat’s knuckles.

“Then let’s not dwell on it,” Lestat said. “I know you know how I feel, but I can’t stand to talk about it. I hope that will suffice for now. I want so very badly for us to exist together again, at least for a little while.”

He dragged his eyes to meet Louis’ again, removing his violet-tinted glasses.

“Yes,” said Louis. His smile was unusually broad. Lestat swore it looked like Daniel’s. “Yes I think we can manage that. For a while.”

They walked the streets for some time longer, hand in hand. Lestat committed it to memory; the feel of Louis’ hand in his, the temperature of the night and the sounds of the city. He remembered the shark fin and Daniel’s kiss. He remembered the passion he’s shared with Louis before that. Oh, what passion. He trembled. There would be time for more passion. And he had so much to teach Daniel. They had so much to teach Daniel. He would feel as alive as he ever did. The Savage Garden awaited.

**Author's Note:**

> Say hi to me on tumblr @iwt-v


End file.
